Multi Faceted
by Element's Sole Protector
Summary: They may be headmaster and pupil on the surface, but it's obvious to the trained eye that there are many more layers than that.
1. The Beginning

Another fic exploring Albus and Harry's deeper connection. There will never be enough.

Don't own HP. Bookverse _and_ Movieverse. Let's do this.

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~_Multi-Faceted_~

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_I: The Beginning_

Perhaps it all began the moment the pupil started to rely on the support and guidance of his headmaster. Or perhaps it was when the ever-lonely teacher found himself no longer lonely, but instead with a student who adored and idolized him.

Looking back later, with clear heads, both agreed: the path could be traced back to Harry Potter's first Welcoming Feast, the moment that the boy first looked up from the Gryffindor house table and saw Albus Dumbledore smiling at him, toasting him with a golden goblet. It was a promise: nothing about their relationship would ever be traditional.

In fact, it would be quite loony.


	2. Daydreams

(laughs) Not waiting for reviews for this one. I'll just post this one and _then_ wait.

...Yeah, Albus has a darker thought process sometimes.

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~_Multi-Faceted_~

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_II: Daydreams_

The most powerful wizard in the world had the best daydreams.

Albus Dumbledore's blue eyes would go filmy from lack of focus, and then he would dream of a world with no prophecy, where he worked with good men and women to defeat Voldemort just before Harry was born. His beloved boy would grow up with parents, with knowledge of the wizarding world, and with not-too-few admirers by the time he knocked on Hogwarts' door.

Safe, well, and happy, Dumbledore imagined... _and completely independent of me_.

The bubble popped. Harry stood over him, nudging him awake.

Dumbledore looked at him and said nothing but thought of everything. Without Lord Voldemort as a threat, without a lack of parents and stable friends, the Harry of his glorious daydream would have no reason to turn to his headmaster - to love his headmaster as anything more than such - at all. They really _would_ be just headmaster and pupil, with Harry only visiting when he had been caught in some James-esque prank. And he himself would not even know the difference... what it was like to want to protect another after so many years...

_You are being foolish._

Was he?

_He would grow to love you in the same way. It would simply happen differently... and the same would be true for you._

But _would_ he? Would Harry?

"Professor?"

He patted the boy's head reassuringly, to hide his guilt at the new and quite selfish idea that had entered his mind for a moment: _Perhaps things are not so terrible the way they are_.


	3. Nightmares

More Harry-centric this time. But I couldn't keep Albus _all_ of the way out.

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~_Multi-Faceted_~

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_III: Nightmares_

Every night they came back with a vengeance.

Such horrible, twisted dreams that they sent Harry into screaming fits. At times he was being tortured; sometimes his friends were being tortured in front of him, and he screamed to no avail. _Stop, stop, STOP!_ But it never did, and when they turned to kill him too he felt ill with dread...

Harry woke shrieking, but never alone.

Albus would immediately pull Harry into his arms and rock him consistently as the boy sobbed out his dream, and murmur nonsense until he went quiet. If Harry could not fall instantly back asleep, a mug of hot chocolate alongside a soothing, nightmare-free conversation and a midnight snack brought back the boy Albus so loved.

The _headmaster's_ nightmares, on the other hand, were older, more refined, bloodier, and their influence not so easy to shake off. His moans and rampant, destructive magic woke Harry in a matter of moments on an average summer night. When the boy _did_ manage to wake Albus, the man often took one look at him before Harry found himself being tightly hugged, and he had to reconsider going back to his room.

Whatever the solution, though, both always managed to help the other. And they knew: without the other, neither would ever get much sleep in any home.


	4. Wrath

This one is more Albus-centric. He has so many layers, doesn't he?

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~_Multi-Faceted_~

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_IV: Wrath_

By nature Albus Dumbledore was a calm, patient, forgiving man. It was difficult to unsettle or anger him; this only doubled in difficulty when contact with Harry further mellowed him out. Short of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, even Severus Snape could not easily irritate him, let alone make him give in to the pull of unleashing the Elder Wand's considerable power.

That all changed when anyone meant Harry harm.

People would be stunned to know that the kindly, eccentric, passive headmaster in him became an enraged, protective bottle of _power _when someone hurt Harry James Potter. He lost all semblances of patience and dignity, became so dangerously furious that even Voldemort would wet his pants if he had any decency left in him.

The Elder Wand usually came out then, and did its horribly dirty work in the name of (of all things!) protection and love.

Later on Albus would laugh, self-consciously, at how impassioned he could be in the heat of the moment.

But only later. Harry was his own, and anyone trying to end that bond was a serious threat - and, in the end, usually wished that they had never crossed Hogwarts' greatest headmaster.


	5. Mercy

We're back to Harry, as an AU-from-canon adult. This is my absolute favorite so far.

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~_Multi-Faceted_~

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_V: Mercy_

By nature, Harry Potter was not a forgiving person.

Oh, he would _love _people despite their faults, sure. That, however, did not mean he would forgive injury or betrayal. He was not his beloved mentor, after all, and in this he would never be like him.

The war began and dragged on and was over, and the wizarding world at large looked to Harry to lead them in punishing the cruel, the deceptive, the mad and the haughty. But Harry could not be sure of himself - in his own loss he wanted blood, but in times of quiet like these he wanted only peace.

The dead whispered to him, pointing to the innocent, to the bereaved, and then to the sick cold-blooded killers, and _then_ to the ones on the wrong side and desperate to survive. He saw all, felt the pain of all -

Desperately, he sought Albus out, pleaded for advice. But his father figure shook his head regretfully, and reminded Harry that the public wanted the opinion and guidance of the Chosen One, He-Who-Had-Defeated-The-_Latest_-Dark-Lord - not a "half-mad" old man like him. Further, he could not "grow and change for the better" if Albus was always making decisions _for_ him - "as much as I would like to, little one."

So Harry stood in a dark, cold courtroom facing a hundred witches and wizards, some the convicted, some the acquitted, and with their fate in his hands he hoped his headmaster would be proud of him.

"They should pay for their crimes against the wizarding world - _our_ world," he affirmed strongly; but equally strongly he delivered the hammer blow to this greedy, lusting crowd. "But we will _not_ become monsters with them to make sure of it. There will be no Dementor's Kiss. We may not forgive, and we will _never_ forget, but we will not seek a base revenge. We're better than that. I propose..."

He saw people smile as he spoke his proposal, and he saw them frown. There were cries and moans and cheers, but Harry ignored the majority. He sought one man, and found him toward the back - present but muted. Albus's eyes caught Harry's and twinkled.

Harry smiled.

He had seen all, felt the pain of all - but he could not really punish all.

He'd been as gracious as he could be.


	6. Injury

I'm back from self-imposed exile and writer's block, among other things. Let's go!

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~_Multi-Faceted_~

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_VI: Injury_

"You're bleeding."

"It's fine, Professor - only a flesh wound." Harry pushed Albus away, but the silver-haired headmaster merely pushed back firmly, taking the affected arm in his hand. "Move _off_, Albus! I'm _fine_."

Albus growled. "_Harry_... you would say that to me if this arm was _missing_. You are _hurt_, and I wish you would admit it to me more often. It is not a show of weakness."

"I - !"

"I am here to help you," Albus said gently. "I _want_ to help you." His blue eyes went steely, then, and his expression darkened. "Now, I will say this once. _Let me help you, Harry._"

Harry brought his green eyes up to glare into Albus's blue ones. His professor held his gaze, not faltering in the slightest. At last, Harry lowered his eyes, and stretched his arm out a little further for inspection.

"Thank you, Harry."

Albus felt Harry flinch as he tightened his grip on his arm. As soothingly as possible, he stroked the boy's arm up to the injury, getting Harry used to his magic. Harry's pulse quickened as Albus ran one finger over the bleeding cut; he hissed a moment later, watching the sparks of magic travel over his arm and close the cut.

_...All right, that wasn't so bad. If I stay still, he might not suspect any other scars..._

And then Harry gasped as he felt those other scars, the ones hidden beneath clothes and cloaking spells, heal magically as well. He glared at his smiling mentor.

"You..."

"You were bleeding in more places than one." The blue eyes twinkled.

Harry grumbled, while feeling secretly pleased that Albus had bothered. "Yeah, well... it wasn't your business."

"I beg to differ. I daresay it was."

"Oh, really? Well, then... don't be surprised if I return the favor sometime soon - I'm sure you've got a lot of scars yourself, and _I_ won't take no for an answer either."

"My dear boy, you would have to catch me without robes on first!"

"Wha - ugh! Thank you, Albus, for that all-too-clear, unneeded mental image."


	7. Healing

Harry didn't have the ability to heal people in the books. (Why _not_, I wondered? He _needed_ it.)

He doesn't have it at the beginning of this chapter either. :D Enjoy.

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~_Multi-Faceted_~

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_VII: Healing_

Albus took Harry by the arm, figuratively and sometimes literally, and taught him healing spells little by little. The boy knew that he was being taught so he could save himself, for once—so he could deal with any minor injuries until help could arrive—but the time with his headmaster was still his, was still _precious_.

Practice was harder. Albus wanted Harry to use _him_ as a test subject, but the latter wouldn't allow it—would even go so far as to take Albus's wand—_The Elder Wand!_—from his headmaster if the blue eyes gained a suspicious glint. Likewise, Albus roared in protest of Harry harming and then healing himself.

Both refused to involve anyone else—so they were at a standstill, until the day that Albus pulled his wand, Harry reacted too slowly, there was a loud BANG, and suddenly Albus's shoulder was bleeding too quickly, and the man's teeth were clenched to ward off some of the pain.

"_Albus!_"

"I am f-fine," Albus managed. "I… _oooohhh_…" He moaned in pain again. "I merely… _ouch_… miscalculated."

"Miscalcu—WHAT were you thinking? _What_ did you hit yourself with, that you're bleeding so much?"

"It—was—an accident," Albus panted; he watched Harry stare at him, made dumb with the force of his rage. "Spell was—unintentional."

"_I'll_ say," Harry snarled. He yanked his wand out of his own robes and severed the shoulders of his mentor's robe with a hastily-muttered "_Diffindo_", so as to better see the gash. Albus did not protest—the robes weren't his favorite.

After a few moments, Harry whimpered with relief—the wound wasn't as bad as it could have been. Unthinkingly, he waved his wand over the area, muttering when necessary—his attention was focused on glaring at his mentor.

"_Don't—Tergeo—_EVER _try and hurt yourself again_," Harry scolded, still fuming. He tapped the spot, and the older man flinched as the bone rearranged itself.

Albus almost had to bite his tongue to keep from pointing out that, had Harry tried to draw his _own_ blood and succeeded, he himself would not have been able to stop and see reason, let alone take time to heal Harry. The boy's blood made him crazy that way.

Instead he murmured: "It… is better this way. At most, I will have a decorative new scar like yours."

"'A _decorative scar'_? You're bloody _lucky_ I can even _heal_ this!" And he set to it.

Albus, ready to reply, to scold Harry for bad language, stopped as he alone realized the full implications of his protégé's words. He smiled warmly, and watched mutely as Harry expertly tended to his wound in a way he couldn't have done six weeks before. He chuckled, too, when the boy was done.

"Thank you, Harry. I feel much better."

"You're welcome," Harry replied, a little crossly—and at that moment, the whole of what he had just accomplished fell on him.

His green eyes were wide with wonder, and he stared down at his pinkish hands as Albus examined his own good-as-new shoulder while roaring with laughter.


	8. Touch

Next one, finally!

This one has equal focus. Foci? Whatever, just read it.

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~_Multi-Faceted_~

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_VIII: Touch_

Being touched in any positive way was a rarity for Harry. A gift. As a child he'd had so little physical contact that he hardly expected any - but, secretly, longed for it. Thus, coming to Hogwarts had been a dream come true for him - the life of a boy wizard brought him gentle punches from Ron and his other guy friends, hugs from Hermione, and the occasional hand from a teacher that helped guide his wand movements to a successfully-cast spell.

But none of these touches mattered as much to Harry as did Albus Dumbledore's.

Perhaps it was because of all those people Harry had met and continued to meet, he always least expected to have any sort of physical contact with his jovial-but-often-distant headmaster. Regardless of the reason, though, the first time Albus had put his hand on eleven-year-old Harry's head in the hospital wing had stuck with him, and now every subsequent time they made contact it sent a pleasant jolt through the boy. Each ruffle of his hair, pat on his shoulder and arm wrapped around him only confirmed that Albus cared about him, that Albus _loved_ him even. And that was the best gift of all.

As for Albus, he himself had never imagined being fond of a scrawny boy with messy hair and intense eyes - certainly not paternally so. But Harry was as much a pleasant surprise in his heart as he was everywhere else, and as a genius Albus _was_ prone to learning from his mistakes. He had not been very affectionate (physically or otherwise) with his blood family, and had lost nearly all of them as a result. He would not make the same mistake with Harry - he was _determined_ not to.

So he showered Harry with the attention the boy craved, while simultaneously breaking down his own reclusive barriers - and Harry gradually learned to stick close to his headmaster, often burying his head in his chest or laying it on the old man's shoulder when troubled or lonely. And over time, both became used to being in close contact, whether they were standing shoulder to shoulder against Death Eaters or hugging each other to banish particularly potent nightmares.

It took time, but they bonded. And all was well.


End file.
